Strictly Platonic
by Mia M. Turner
Summary: A thunderstorm draws Kurt into Blaine's dorm room for the night. Despite the shaking and the squeals, Kurt insists he isn't afraid of thunderstorms. Blaine has reason to believe otherwise. Klaine, oneshot.


A/N: Alrighty, my first Glee fiction. This is a little scary for me. I'm used to being a pretty well known author in my usual fandom, so switching gears here and going back to being an unknown is pretty scary for me, and a little difficult. Especially going into the Glee realm of all places. Muchacha has been one of my favorite DeviantArt artists and through her I found all these great fics. So I couldn't help second-guessing myself as I was writing this, wondering how I'm ever supposed to live up to masterpieces such as Dalton or Knife Going In.

As an aspiring author however, I'm always eager to step outside my comfort zone and try something new. So here's my first attempt. Hoping it's well-received. Please let me know what you think! I'm always open to ideas, suggestions, requests, you name it.

The only thing you really need to know here is that despite the last three Glee episodes stating otherwise, I still subscribe to the theory that Dalton is a boarding school.

Enjoy!

…

Kurt winced as another loud thunder clap shook the walls.

Under normal circumstances, he loved roaming the spacious halls of the Dalton dormitories. He loved the hum of silence, loved the dim lighting, loved the feeling of the carpet underneath his feet. Unfortunately, his head was swimming with too many distractions to enjoy any of that at the moment.

The unreasonably loud thunderstorm, for one. He'd never been a fan of adverse weather; hadn't been since his mother died, for more reasons than one.

Then there was the particularly rough day he'd been having. He wasn't sure what had him so grouchy from the moment he'd woken up, but it had completely thrown off his typical routine. His homework still wasn't done, he'd forgotten to call home, and on top of it all, he didn't even have time to do his usual skin-care routine. Such disturbances in his day only made him grouchier, leaving him wondering if the vicious cycle would ever come to a stop.

Then of course, there was Blaine.

Ah, yes, _Blaine_.

The distraction of Kurt's absolutely gorgeous classmate was not a new occurrence for him. The workload Kurt had taken on since switching schools was heavy enough; having Blaine enter his daydreams every few minutes wasn't helping at all.

What _was_ new was what he was doing right now; shuffling down the halls at midnight on a Friday, headed towards…

Well, he didn't exactly want to say it. He tried to push it to the back of his mind, pretend that he was wandering aimlessly with no particular destination in his mind. Still, when he came to a stop in front of Blaine's door, he couldn't stop that nagging voice in his head.

_You planned this._

Kurt was unable to move for a moment or two. He clutched a pillow to his chest akin to the way a child clutched their favorite teddy bear.

A soft glow emitted from the cracks in the door and he could faintly hear a Katy Perry song of some sort on the radio. Blaine was still awake. That was a good start, anyway. Next step: knock. And what a challenge that would turn out to be. His hand felt weighted, his fingers felt stiff… Just balling them into a fist was a task in and of itself.

He tried to push that nagging voice away again; reassure himself that he was only going to ask a friend for help. The more he tried to push it away however, the louder the voice grew.

_You're about to knock on _Blaine's_ door. Blaine, the guy you're in love with. Blaine, the guy that, and don't deny this, you're fantasizing about snuggling up with tonight. Blaine…_

_Who made it quite clear he just wanted to be friends right now._

That nagging voice always was a bit of a downer. Sometimes it sounded like him, often times it sounded like his father.

"It doesn't have to turn into anything romantic," Kurt whispered to himself, desperate to drown out the nagging voice. "This is a strictly platonic visit."

Finally, he managed to curl his fingers into a fist and knock lightly on the door. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the music stop and the soft pattering of Blaine's footsteps approaching the door.

Great… He was already going weak in the knees just at the thought of _seeing_ Blaine, and he expected this to just be a friendly visit?

He reached up quickly to smooth his hair down as the doorknob turned and attempted to regain his composure. And no sooner… there stood Blaine. Adorable plaid pajama bottoms, tight blue t-shirt, slightly tussled hair. Kurt had to hold his breath to keep a pent-up squeal from coming out.

Blaine's expression remained blank only for a split second before he smiled warmly.

"Kurt… To what do I owe this late night visit?"

Kurt swallowed, willing himself to speak up so as not to make a total fool out of himself. To be honest, he'd spent so much time preparing for the simple act of knocking on the door, that he'd completely forgotten to prepare an excuse for being there in the first place.

"I… It's just that… I can't sleep, a-and I was getting kind of bored, and I thought maybe I'd come talk to you, see how you're doing-"

Blaine leaned against his doorframe, arms crossed, an amused grin on his face as he allowed Kurt to rattle off excuse after excuse. He finally lifted a hand to cut him off.

"You're scared of the thunder," he concluded. "Come on in."

Kurt couldn't help but blush as Blaine stepped back to allow him inside. Partly because he'd just been invited into Blaine's room, but mostly because Blaine had it all wrong. Kurt wasn't afraid of thunderstorms at all. The fact that Blaine thought so was nothing short of humiliating. He disliked thunderstorms, yes. Even hated them. But "afraid"? It simply wasn't the right word.

Kurt closed his eyes as Blaine shut the door behind him. He inhaled before opening his eyes and taking a look around. The room wasn't a mess, but it certainly wasn't immaculate either. 'Organized Chaos' Kurt liked to call it. His uniform was strewn across a chair in the corner, a used dish or two sat on the nightstand, and his bed obviously hadn't been made any time recently. And though Kurt would usually find this sort of thing grating, he found it oddly charming now.

"So," Blaine began, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, "Not a fan of loud noises?"

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. Unable to form words at this point, he simply shook his head.

Blaine nodded. "Yea, this is gross weather isn't it? Especially for the weekend."

_Talk, you idiot!_

Fantastic. The voice was back.

_He's making small talk, which obviously means he's trying to start a conversation with you, which means you should stop standing there, staring at him like he's got two heads!_

And to think this sort of thing had always come so naturally to Kurt. Those countless trips to the coffee shop, those occasional dinners at Breadsticks, those tours through the campus… Conversation had always come so easily then. Kurt prided himself on never showing what a lovesick puppy he was. Exactly unlike how he was behaving at the moment.

Silence continued to hang in the air. Blaine, still smiling, tilted his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. Kurt's knees turned to jelly. The last time he remembered seeing that look was when he'd first come to spy on the Warblers for the McKinley High Glee Club. He sat across from Blaine, coffee cup clutched in his hand, heart pounding loudly in his ears. It was the look he fell in love with… That made him fall in love with Blaine, more appropriately.

"Well, I see you brought your pillow," Blaine gestured to the pillow Kurt was still holding in a death grip. "I guess that means you're planning on staying a while?"

Kurt couldn't even find it in him to nod this time as Blaine stood up and headed towards his closet.

"No problem. Let me set you up a spot."

Kurt finally managed to move from his spot for the first time since he'd entered the room. He dropped the pillow and helped Blaine lay out a blanket on the floor next to his bed. He was glad that Blaine didn't seem to notice Kurt's inability to say anything. That, or he was choosing to ignore it…

Without a word, Kurt settled his pillow at the top of the blanket and sat down, the hard floor instantly sending an uncomfortable feeling up his spine. Kurt couldn't remember the last time he'd slept on the floor, if at all.

Almost as if on cue, Blaine spoke up. "Actually, you can have my bed if you want. One night on the floor won't kill me, and you _are_ the guest here."

Kurt grimaced a bit. How could Blaine expect him to be reserved and only see him as a friend when he continued to be so sweet and caring?

Kurt was grateful to finally get his voice back. "No, that's alright," he croaked. "I came and interrupted you in the middle of the night, I don't mind taking the floor." He kept his eyes on Blaine as he shrugged and went back to his bed, flopping back on it. All that planning Kurt had done to get to this point… and Blaine hadn't even given a second thought to sharing his room. He didn't even have to _say_ anything before Blaine made the offer. This, he thought, is why I'm in love him.

_Stop using the 'L' word, _the voice continued to nag. _This visit is platonic, remember? Strictly - platonic._

Blaine raised his arms above his head and let out a dramatic yawn. "Well, if you don't mind, I'm gonna go ahead and kill the lights."

Kurt nodded. "You don't need to ask permission… It's your room."

Blaine smiled a bit and leaned over to his nightstand to shut the lamp off.

Kurt settled into his blanket, staring at the ceiling. The more time that passed, the more relaxed he felt. And despite the uncomfortable sleeping accommodations, he loved the smell of the room, being that it had a faint trace of Blaine's cologne in the air, and the soft pitter-patter of the rain on the windows was soothing enough to put him to sleep.

He was a mere second from drifting off before another loud thunder crash shook the walls. Kurt couldn't help it, he let out a slight squeal. He heard Blaine jump immediately after the fact.

Wonderful, here came the taunting, humiliation, or a request to go back to his own room. None of the options seemed all that appealing.

Blaine seemed to be still for a moment before Kurt heard him shuffle his blanket around a bit.

"Come on up here," Blaine said, patting the bed.

Kurt continued staring at the ceiling, his shaking momentarily subsiding. "W-What?" he whispered. _Why_ he was whispering, he wasn't sure.

"Come up," Blaine repeated. "You're scared. It'll make you feel better."

Kurt sat up a bit, but remained in his spot.

"I thought you just wanted to be friends," he mumbled. Blaine made a face.

"Friends can't comfort each other when they're scared?"

Kurt wasn't sure why he was arguing. Especially when Blaine was offering his bed up to him. Cautiously, he pulled himself up and settled himself next to Blaine, careful not to touch him, almost as though he feared something would explode if he did. _Strictly platonic,_ the voice warned. _Keep this strictly platonic._

Blaine pulled the blanket up over Kurt, but didn't say anything after. Kurt bit his lip, feeling the need to fill the silence with something… _Anything_.

"… I am not scared of thunderstorms, you know," he muttered.

"Hmm?" Blaine responded, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "Forgive me for finding that hard to believe. That was quite the falsetto squeak you just let out."

Kurt's cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Well I'm not," he insisted.

Another awkward silence hung in the air. Blaine's deep, even breathing led Kurt to believe that he'd fallen back asleep. It came as a surprise to him to hear his voice again a few minutes later.

"If you're not scared of thunder," here, he paused to yawn, "Then what's got you so worked up?"

Kurt should have known better, he figured. He was horrible at hiding how flustered he often got. Still, he wasn't sure he was ready to share this kind of story with Blaine. That is, until he reached over and took Kurt's hand, squeezing it slightly.

"Stop shaking," he instructed gently. Kurt shuddered slightly. At this point, he'd probably be willing to give Blaine his social security and bank account numbers.

"It's not the loud noises," Kurt began. "Not that I like those either… It's that… When I was younger, and my mom was in the hospital, taking what would turn out to be her last breaths, there was a horrible thunderstorm happening outside. I'd never been scared of them before, but it really got to me that night for some reason. I guess it wasn't helping an already stressful night. I remember… I couldn't stop crying, and just when I'd start to calm down, the thunder would pick back up again."

The room was silent for a moment. The thunder had subsided for the time being. Blaine had moved to stroking Kurt's hand with his thumb, perhaps trying to indicate to Kurt that he was still awake and listening.

"She finally told me to climb into bed with her. She was very weak, and I was scared that if I got too close, I would hurt her. My dad even flinched a bit; I think he wanted to stop her, but she leaned over and pulled me up next to her. And when she snuggled me close to her…" Kurt paused to take a deep breath. "I hardly noticed the thunder. It was like it wasn't even making a sound. She stayed like that with me until the next day. I woke up in my room and Mom…" Kurt hung his head. "She was gone."

Blaine remained silent, though he continued rubbing soothing circles on the back of Kurt's hand.

"And since then… It's like the thunder's been twice as loud. Almost as though I never noticed how blaring it was without my mother there to turn the volume down." Thunder roared in the distance as Kurt finished his story.

_Now you're crying?_ the voice chastised. _You're making an absolute fool of yourself. See if Blaine ever invites you into his room again._

Kurt blinked, determined to hold his tears back, but it seemed he couldn't stop them. He rubbed his eyes, quick and soft sobs unwillingly escaping his throat. He moved to excuse himself, ready to let out a hasty apology for wasting Blaine's time and humiliating the both of them.

A hand grabbed his arm before he could sit up. Blaine carefully turned Kurt over to face him and gently pulled him to his body, laying his head on his chest and lightly running his fingers through his hair.

"Asking your mother to be the only the one to turn down the volume is quite the responsibility, Kurt," Blaine spoke sleepily. "Why not hand the remote to someone else?"

Kurt's eyes widened a bit. He tried to comprehend what Blaine had just said to him, but he couldn't focus on anything but the gentle fingers running through his hair. Kurt cautiously lifted his hand and grabbed a fistful of Blaine's shirt, letting a few extra, silent tears escape. Blaine held him a little tighter and began rocking gently.

"Shh," he whispered soothingly, "It's okay, I'm right here. Go to sleep."

Thunder continued rolling in the distance, though to Kurt's amazement, the sound was far less overwhelming. He carefully lifted his head to look Blaine in the eyes.

"So… Are you sure this is how friends comfort each other?"

Blaine chucked slightly and leaned over, gently kissing the top of Kurt's head. "We'll talk in the morning, alright?"

An inner squee would have to do for now to save himself any further humiliation. Kurt carefully snuggled back into Blaine's chest, reveling in the soothing words Blaine would occasionally whisper until he drifted off.

Before he finally submitted to sleep, however, he smirked at the sound of another light thunder clap.

_I didn't plan this at all, Mom, _he thought to himself. _This was all your doing_, _wasn't it?_

Yes, she always _had_ been sneaky like that.


End file.
